The week before spring break – midterm week, college version – was one of the most intense weeks of my life, but it was finally over. And as the pulsating jets of the hot tub worked their magic on my bikini-clad body I closed my eyes and slid deeper into the water, the hectic, pressure packed week now nothing but a distant memory. If only my boyfriend were here, it would have been perfect.
Although my mother, bless her heart, was distraught over the fact that on my first night home for spring break nobody would be home, I couldn’t have been happier. “Really,” I’d told her. “You and Dad go enjoy your party. I’ll be fine. After all, I’m 22, not 12.”
“I’ll have Jamie stay home,” she’d countered, referring to my eighteen year-old brother. “He doesn’t need to go out every night.”
“No!” I retorted emphatically, before quieting down. “Really, a nice quiet night at home with the hot tub and a warm bed is just what the doctor ordered.”
That had been three hours ago. Now it was nearly half past eight in the evening and I finally had the house – and the large, luxurious hot tub – all to myself.
I let my legs drift apart, allowing those magic jets to attack me freely, sighing softly as that one special jet found its target. And as the pulsating marvel sent its relentless stream of bubbling pleasure towards my pussy, I began to feel that familiar stirring in my loins.
Even though I knew no one would be home for at least two hours, I found myself looking towards the house, no more than fifteen feet from the corner of the deck where the tub sat. Then, after a quick look around our tree lined backyard, I bit my lower lip and took a deep breath.
“What the hell,” I said as I leaned forward and reached behind my back. I freed the top quickly, sliding it off and setting it on the side of the tub. A moment later the bottoms were lying beside them and my hands were sliding over my firm young “C” cups, gently massaging them as I shifted my body to bring more water pleasure to bear on my pussy.
I let go of my mind, allowing myself to drift into my own little paradise, freeing my hands to wander where they may, while I gyrated my hips slowly over the jet. My right hand drifted between my legs, sliding over the mound the jets were working so efficiently, separating my hungry lips and sliding a finger inside.
I worked myself slowly, eyes closed as my finger worked its way in, then out, then in again, while my left hand slid from one breast to the other, squeezing each one gently and pulling softly on its nipple.
I allowed my left hand to drift away from my breasts, sliding over my taut stomach and up my side, sending light tingles over my body.
I continued to move slowly, patiently, allowing the pleasure to build at its own pace, neither rushing it nor delaying it unnaturally. Soon my breathing was coming in shallow gasps.
My hands automatically stepped up the pace of their attacks, the left hand returning to my breasts, squeezing and kneading while my right hand continued its assault on my pussy.
I could feel my orgasm growing near, slowing building inside me. That’s when, just as I was nearing the point of no return, I opened my eyes and saw my little brother in the kitchen window, staring directly at me.
But by then it didn’t matter. Nothing, not my little brother, not my parents, not even God himself, was going to stay my orgasm. And as I rammed my fingers hard and deep into my pussy, I arched my back and screamed out, squeezing my tits as my orgasm struck like a tidal wave.